"I'm gonna get you!" he yelled, chasing after me.
I hid behind my mother. "You can't. It's my birthday." I stuck my tongue out at him. The boys fell onto the blanket, wet and sandy.
"Mom," Steven complained. "She pulled out a hunk of my hair."
"Steven, you have a whole head full. I wouldn't worry about it." My mother lit the candles on the cake she'd baked that morning. It was a lopsided Duncan Hines yellow cake with chocolate frosting. She had messy handwriting, so "Happy Birthday" looked like "Happy Bimday."
I blew out the candles before Steven could try to "help" me. I didn't want him stealing my wish. I wished for Conrad, of course.
"Open your presents, Smelly," Steven said sullenly. I already knew what he'd gotten me. A stick of deodorant. He'd wrapped it in Kleenex; I could see right through the tissue.
I ignored him and reached for a small flat box wrapped in seashell paper. It was from Susannah, so I knew it would be good. I tore off the wrapping paper, and inside there was a silver charm bracelet, from the store Susannah loved, Rheingold's, where they sold fancy china and crystal candy dishes. On the bracelet there were five charms: a conch shell, a bathing suit, a sand castle, a pair of sunglasses, and a horseshoe.
"For how lucky we are to have you in our lives," Susannah said, touching the horseshoe.
I lifted it up, and the charms glinted and sparkled in the sunlight. "I love it."
My mother was silent. I knew what she was thinking. She was thinking that Susannah had overdone it, that she'd spent too much money. I felt guilty for loving the bracelet so much. My mother had bought me sheet music and CDs. We didn't have as much money as they did, and in that moment I finally understood what that meant.
Chapter thirty - eight
"I love it," I said.
I ran upstairs to my room and went straight for the music box on my dresser, where I kept my charm bracelet. I grabbed the bracelet and ran back downstairs.
"See?" I said, putting the key charm on and fastening it onto my wrist.
"It's a key, because you'll be driving soon. Get it?" Jeremiah said, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands behind his head.
I got it. I smiled to show him I did.
Conrad leaned in for a closer look. "Nice," he said.
I held it in the palm of my other hand. I couldn't stop looking at it. "I love it," I said again. "But it's from Rheingold's. It must have been really expensive."
"I saved up all summer to buy it," he said solemnly. I stared at him. "No, you didn't!" He broke into a smile. "Fooled ya. Gullible as ever, aren't you?"
Punching him on the arm, I said, "I didn't believe you anyway, jerk." Even though I had, for a second.
Jeremiah rubbed his arm where I'd punched it. "It wasn't that expensive. Anyway, I'm big-time now, remember? Don't worry about me. I'm just glad you like it. Yolie said you would."
I hugged him fiercely. "It's perfect."
"What a wonderful gift, Jere," Susannah said. "It's better than my old necklace, that's for sure."
He laughed. "Yeah, right," he said, but I could tell he was pleased.
My mother got up and started cutting the cake. She wasn't a very good cake cutter: The pieces were too big, and they fell apart on the sides. "Who wants cake?" she said, licking her finger.
"I'm not hungry," Conrad said abruptly. He stood up, looking at his watch. "I've gotta get dressed for work. Happy birthday, Belly."
He went upstairs, and nobody said anything for a minute. Then my mother said, loudly, "This cake is delicious. Have some, Beck." She pushed a piece in front of her.
Smiling faintly, Susannah said, "I'm not hungry either.
You know what they say about the cook not having taste for her own cooking. But you guys eat."
I took a big bite. "Mmm. Yellow cake, my favorite."
"From scratch," my mother said.
Chapter thirty - nine
Conrad invited Nicole, Red Sox girl, over to the house. Our house. I couldn't believe Red Sox girl was at our house. It was bizarre to have a girl there other than me.
It was midafternoon. I was out on the deck, sitting at the patio table, eating a Doritos sandwich when they drove up. She was wearing short shorts and a white T-shirt, and a pair of sunglasses on top of her head. The Red Sox hat was nowhere in sight. She looked chic. She looked like she belonged. Unlike me, in my old Cuz Beach shirt that doubled as a pajama dress. I thought he'd at least bring her inside the house, but they hung out on the other side of the deck, lying on the lounge chairs. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I could hear her giggling like crazy.
After about five minutes I couldn't take it anymore. I got on the phone and called Cam. He said he'd be over in half an hour, but it was more like fifteen minutes.
They walked back into the house when Cam and I were arguing over which movie to watch. "What are you guys gonna watch?" Conrad asked, sitting on the couch opposite us. Red Sox girl sat next to him. She was practically in his lap.
I didn't look at him when I said, "We're trying to decide." Emphasis on the "we're."
"Can we watch too?" Conrad asked. "You guys know Nicole, right?"
So, suddenly Conrad felt like being social when he'd spent the whole summer locked up in his room?
"Hey," she said in a bored tone.
"Hey," I said, matching her tone as best I could.
"Hey, Nicole," Cam said. I wanted to tell him not to be so friendly, but I knew he wouldn't have listened anyway. "I want to watch Reservoir Dogs , but Belly wants to watch Titanic."
"Seriously?" the girl said, and Conrad laughed.
"Belly loves Titanic," he said mockingly.
"I loved it when I was, like, nine," I said. "I want to watch right now so I can laugh at it, for your information."
I was as cool as a cucumber. I wasn't going to let him goad me in front of Cam again. And actually, I still loved Titanic. What wasn't to love about a doomed romance on a doomed ship? I knew for a fact that Conrad had liked it too, even though he'd pretended not to.
"I vote for Reservoir Dogs" Nicole said, examining her fingernails.
Did she even get a vote? What was she doing there anyway?
"Two votes for Reservoir Dogs " Cam said. "What about you, Conrad?"
"I think I'll vote for Titanic" he said blandly. "Reservoir Dogs sucks even harder than Titanic. It's overrated."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "You know what? I think I'll change my vote to Reservoir Dogs. So it looks like you're outnumbered, Conrad," I said.